


A Permanent Hug From You

by Doodlelupin



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: A little bit anyway, Dinner, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Gen, Grumpy Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Hurt Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Its implied, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has ADHD, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist With a Cane, M/M, Pining, Pining Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Pining Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Protective Martin Blackwood, hed never admit that tho, i dont think its stated outright but it is adhd, i mean a lot of his eating problems are because of his adhd, i should probably give it a name if its gonna turn up this often, idk what to tag haha, jon cant take care of himself what a rat, jons got a cruuush, projecting? me? nope. would never, the return of the cafe lmao, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27496426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodlelupin/pseuds/Doodlelupin
Summary: Jon's had a tough day of work. But he's f i n e. He's a little hungry but he'll get around to it. Eventually.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 142





	A Permanent Hug From You

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place early season 2. jon doesnt bring up his mistrust of martin because i...didnt feel like it lmao he trusts him fine in this  
> 

Jon was sorting out statements in the Archive Storage room. Well, he was trying to. He had started out by taking one box at a time, assuming that they would be in order by date, as that would actually  _ make sense _ . It seemed, however, that statements had been thrown around wherever his predecessor had pleased, with no regard to any sort of filing system. Alright, he may be exaggerating. Most of the files were organized by date, but there was a baffling number of statements from decades, even centuries earlier shoved in the same boxes as the most recent statements. Jon couldn’t figure out Gertrude’s filing system for the life of him. He was praying there was something he was missing, desperately clinging to the hope that she wasn’t just hopelessly disorganized.

The work was getting more difficult as it grew later. His hands were shaking for a variety of reasons, making it harder to flip through the files. It was rather cold in Storage, and he’d been operating on too much caffeine and too little food for a while now. It was just much easier to grab a tea or a coffee or an energy drink than it was to take the time to figure out what to eat, prepare it, and then eat. He could sip as he worked. 

He knew Martin would be pissed at him. He was constantly telling him off for his poor diet, always making him something to eat while he scolded. Jon appreciated his concern and his help (though he hated telling Martin as much). To be fair, he did genuinely forget often. And when he remembered, it just seemed like too much work, and too much time to take out of his day; time that could be better spent sorting these damn files.

Jon sighed and turned his thoughts back to his work. He had to get through at least 5 more boxes before he’d feel content leaving. He’d taken them off the shelf already, might as well sort them before he put them back.

He felt like he was moving incredibly slowly. It was getting harder to avoid fumbling the pages and he was starting to feel nauseous. He couldn’t help feeling angry at himself. He didn’t want to stop and make food, that would only take longer. And he didn’t really need it. He was fine. But was this an efficient way to work? He knew it wasn't, but at the same time he couldn't bring himself to get up. So there he sat, getting more and more frustrated and less and less done.

“Hey, almost done?” A soft voice asked some time later with a gentle rap on the door. Jon jumped. He scowled, embarrassed that he'd been so caught off guard.

“What is it?” He snapped. At Martin, he realized. Martin looked a little hurt at the harsh tone.  _ Well, he shouldn't have barged in while I’m working. _

“I- well its just that it’s almost ten o’clock and-”

“Ten o’clock?” Jon asked. There was no way he’d been working for four hours. 

“Yeah, time flies, huh?” Martin laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did you need any help with anything? It is getting late.”

“No, thank you. I’m just about done here.” Jon lied without hesitation. He regretted it instantly. He would need help putting the boxes back, he could barely reach the shelf on a good day. Martin looked at the boxes. Three were closed and two were open. 

“Are you sure? I can put these away for you if you’d like.” He stepped towards the boxes.

“Sure. Thanks.” Jon sighed. He put the files back into the other two boxes and closed them, sliding them towards Martin. Martin looked at Jon’s hands as he grabbed the box from him.

“Are you alright, Jon? You’re shaking.” He sounded concerned.

“‘M fine. It's cold down here is all.” He waved it off, avoiding Martin’s eyes. He balled his hands into fists, willing them to stop trembling. Martin did not look convinced.

“I was going to stop by that cafe down the street to get a bite to eat before I went home...” Martin offered. “You could- Do you want to join me?”

“Oh no, I’m okay. I should probably finish up a little bit around here first. You get going.”

“Jon-” Martin started. He paused for a moment to consider how to phrase his sentence. Jon was pretty sure he knew what was coming.

“Yes, Martin?” He sighed.

“Have you eaten anything today?” Martin asked outright.

“I- Well yeah, I had-” Jon stammered. He ate earlier, right? Something? “Oh. Well. No I guess not.” 

“God, Jon. It’s ten!”

“I’m aware.”

“And you’re also aware that’s horribly unhealthy?”

“I am.” Jon hoped his tone conveyed how much he did not want to be having this conversation. Martin shook his head.

“Well that seals the deal. You’re coming with me. My treat.”

“Marti-”

“No more words about it. Get your bag. I’ll meet you out front.” He said firmly. He turned and left the room before Jon could reply. Jon was taken aback at his assertive tone. He knew arguing wasn’t going to get anywhere so he did as ordered.

He went back to his office and pulled on his cardigan. He’d forgotten he brought it today, though he knows he should’ve brought a jacket. It was rather cold out when he had gotten in; he was sure it was worse now that the sun had gone down. He grabbed his bag off of his chair and slung it over his shoulder. He took his cane, which was leaning against his desk. His leg still hadn’t fully healed from the whole...worm incident. He could walk on it alright for the most part, but as it got later in the day, it got rather sore. The cane helped. He glanced around to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. Satisfied, he headed out to meet Martin.

“Ready then?” Martin greeted him. “Hang on-Jon, where’s your jacket?”

“I didn’t have time to grab one this morning, I was going to be late! I just grabbed the first thing I saw.” He said, exasperated. What was Martin, his  _ mother _ ?

“You’re already shivering!” Martin scolded, setting his bag down. “You’re not walking around like that-and before you argue, if you get sick you’ll have to take time off work. That’s worse, right?” As he spoke, he was pulling off his own jacket.

“Martin, I can’t take your jacket.  _ You’ll _ freeze. It’s my own fault I didn’t bring one.”

“Yes, and I’m dealing with the consequences so bring one next time!” Martin teased. He held up the jacket for Jon. “You can pay for dinner if you feel that bad about it.” Jon sighed. Martin was somehow more stubborn than he was. He put his arms in the sleeves and pulled it closed around himself. It was still warm. God, it felt nice. It was far too big, almost hanging down to his knees. His fingers barely poked out of the sleeves.

“I look ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously warm. Now let’s get going. Sooner we get inside the sooner you can take it off.”

They began the walk in silence. Jon felt like a child who’d just been chastised. How was he supposed to start a conversation after all that? He was a grown adult. Why couldn’t he take care of himself like one? 

He was more angry at himself than Martin. How could he be angry at the man who just gave him the coat off his back to keep him warm? Jon could feel his face flushing. He looked at his feet, praying Martin wouldn’t notice him looking so flustered.

“The cafe’s alright, isn’t it? Did you want to go somewhere else?” Martin asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, the cafe’s fine. They have...good soup.” Jon replied awkwardly. Martin nodded. They returned to an uncomfortable silence. When he didn’t have to scold Jon to get him to act like a human being, he seemed a lot more timid. Some nurturing instinct seemed to override his anxiety, Jon supposed. He was glad Martin seemed to be getting more confident, even if it wasn’t all the time. He hated that Martin let people walk all over him. He deserved better than that. Jon did have to admit that it was often him doing the “walking”; he didn’t mean to! He just couldn’t stand Martin sometimes. Alright, that wasn’t fully true. He couldn’t stand the way Martin made him  _ feel  _ sometimes. He could feel his face flushing again. This was getting ridiculous now. Different subject.

“So, uh. Have you had any luck with the background on 0100325 yet?” Jon asked.

“Oh- well I’ve had a look at the missing persons reports in Genoa but there don’t seem to be any that are particularly out of the ordinary. All seems about average. I think Sasha had an interview with someone involved? I’m not sure how that turned out.” Jon hummed in response.

“Interesting. That man Ms.Nunis encountered- I’m thinking it may have been Gerard Keay.”

“The guy that was looking for Leitner’s? Yeah, the description did sound a bit like him, didn’t it?”

“It rather did. She didn’t mention any tattoos, though. 

“What about case 0132806? His tattoos weren't mentioned there, either. He must have gotten them at some point after 2012.”

“Oh, you’re right. Slipped my mind.” Martin grinned. He seemed proud to have noticed something Jon didn’t. It didn’t happen often. Jon smiled back. Martin’s happiness was irritatingly contagious.

Jon held the door for Martin as they entered the cafe. It was a small, family-owned business that  _ was _ a bit more expensive than other places around, but they did have the best food around so it was worth it. Plus, it was nice to support local businesses.

They sat at a table beside the window. Jon chose the seat opposite the door. He hated not being able to see people walking behind him. Made him feel exposed, somehow. 

He reluctantly slipped out of Martin’s jacket and handed it over. As much as he had protested, it had felt really nice. Martin hung the jacket on the back of his seat.

“Know what you’re getting?” Jon asked.

“Apparently they have good soup?” Martin teased. Jon rolled his eyes.

“They do.”

“I’ll just have whatever you’re getting. And a tea. Please.”

“Alright. Back in a moment.” Jon went up to the cashier and ordered. He returned a few minutes later with a tray holding 2 steaming bowls of soup and 2 cups of tea.

“That looks incredible. Thanks.” Martin took the tray from him and set it on the table, placing a bowl and a cup in front of both of them while Jon took his seat. They both blew on their tea to cool it down. Martin took a tiny sip and winced. “Burnt my tongue.” He sighed.

The phrase  _ “need me to kiss it better?” _ immediately entered Jon’s head and he almost dropped his tea. Of course it was in Tim’s voice. Jon set the cup down.

“Alright?” Martin asked.

“The cup’s hot.” Jon replied a little too quickly. “How’s…” He started the sentence and immediately regretted it but he couldn’t very well take it back now, “-your tongue?”

“Burnt?” Martin laughed. “It doesn’t hurt but I’m not going to be able to taste the soup properly, which is a shame. It looks delicious.”

“It really does.” Jon nodded. He nibbled on a cracker to try to tame the nausea. He had forgotten about it while walking with Martin. He knew it was because he was so hungry. Salt usually helped for some reason, so he ate crackers until his soup had cooled and his stomach had calmed enough to eat.

They ate in relative silence. This silence wasn’t as uncomfortable as their walk had been, though. It felt nice.

When they’d finished, Jon collected their dishes and brought them up to the counter. He returned to the table, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Well, we’d better get going then.” He said, trying to hide his disappointment. He’d been isolating himself a lot lately. It was nice to just exist around someone else. Martin nodded and got to his feet.

“Better.” He took his jacket off the back of his chair and held it out for Jon. “Before you protest-I know we take the same train. You can give it back in the station but before that we have a little bit of a walk. I’m not going to watch you shiver.” Jon sighed and took the jacket.

“...Thank you, Martin.” he pulled it on, suppressing a smile. He’d been secretly hoping Martin would insist he take his jacket again. He did feel bad about Martin being cold, though. “Do you want a tea for the road?”

“No, I couldn’t. Just remember your own jacket next time.” Martin teased.

“Yes, yes.” Jon rolled his eyes. He grabbed his cane. His leg was feeling alright at the moment. It had gotten a little sore on the walk over, but sitting had helped.

They left the cafe, heading towards the entrance to the tube. Jon was pleasantly warm from the combination of the soup, the tea, the jacket, and the conversation. He couldn’t deny that he was a bit disappointed when they reached the train and he had to return the jacket.

“Why don't you keep it for the night?” Martin asked as Jon moved to take it off while they waited for the train.

“No, I-”

“My flat is like, five minutes from the station. I’ll be fine. You can give it back tomorrow. Might remind you to bring your own.” He grinned.

“I-” Jon wanted to argue but he also really did not want to take the jacket off. He sighed. “If you insist. Thank you. And I will. Bring mine, I mean.”

“You’d better.”

The train pulled up and they climbed aboard. Jon’ s leg was rather sore by this point, and he gladly accepted the seat on the train. Martin stood in front of him, placing his bag in one of the seats beside him. Though there were seats beside him, it was easier to chat when they were facing each other. Jon was glad he didn’t have to twist in his seat. It did make him feel excessively small, though. He was already a fair amount shorter than Martin, but sitting? Martin was practically towering over him. He refused to think about how attractive Martin was when he was acting so protective of him. He focused instead on the conversation.

“Alright, Master Splinter.” Martin teased after Jon had said something.

“Excuse me, I would consider myself more of a Donatello.” Jon replied, pretending to be offended.

“You watched Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?” Martin cried.

“I was a child once, Martin.” Jon laughed. 

“I- I know but… I can't imagine  _ you _ watching a show about  _ ninja turtles _ .”

“Thought I walked out of the womb carrying a text on ancient mysteries?”

“I- well, yeah!” 

“Sorry to break the illusion...Mart-chelangelo.” They both winced at how lame his portmanteau was before bursting out laughing. Jon couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a nice time chatting with someone. As much as he liked to pretend he was a lone wolf, he had missed this. Martin’s stop came too soon.

“Well, this is me.” He said, pointing vaguely towards the doors as the train slowed. Was Jon imagining it or did he also look disappointed? In another life, Jon might have been bold enough to invite him over for another cup of tea. He half-heartedly hoped Martin would insist on walking him home to make sure he got back safe. “Thanks for buying dinner.” It didn’t look like that was going to happen.

“Thanks for the jacket.” Jon smiled. They both knew what else was implied.

“No problem.” He replied. Martin seemed to have overestimated how long it would take for the doors to open. The train was still pulling to a stop and they were just waiting awkwardly. The silence was deafening.

Jon wanted to give Martin a hug. He had done so much for him tonight. It was the least he deserved. Friends did that, hugging before parting? Jon wasn’t sure he qualified as a friend, but he wanted to. He desperately wanted to qualify. And he was just standing there, one arm up to hold the bar and one arm hanging awkwardly at his side; he was practically asking for a hug. He just looked so safe and warm and soft and-

Jon pushed himself to his feet and wrapped his arms around Martin before he could stop himself. Martin let out a little noise of surprise, taking a moment before he returned the gesture. He wrapped his free arm around Jon, holding him tight. Jon could feel Martin’s chin resting on top of his own head. Martin smelled like tea and honey. And he had been right. Martin was just as soft and warm as he looked. Jon couldn't remember feeling safer than he did in Martin’s arms.

Their hug was cut cruelly short as the doors opened. Jon pulled away reluctantly. 

“Thanks again. For everything.” He said as he sat back down.

“Will do.” Martin replied. He was looking at Jon in a strange way. There was something in his eyes that Jon couldn’t place. He dragged his eyes away and took his bag off the seat beside Jon.

“Get home safe!” Martin called back as he stepped out the door. Jon stared after him, watching until he left his field of view. He absentmindedly ran his fingers over the jacket wrapped around him, smiling softly. He would make sure to get home safe. If only to be able to “forget” his jacket again sometime...

**Author's Note:**

> if i messed up any british slang/americanized smth by accident no i didnt <3
> 
> [i also dont know what has possessed me into writing so much?? im not doing nanowrimo or anything... its just free therapy yknow? do not expect me to keep up this momentum lmao i will drop fic-writing just as quickly as i picked it up but hopefully i have a few more in me before then :) ]


End file.
